New Terminus
by shockheaded
Summary: After the battle for Terminus the group finally has the space and numbers they need to start over, but is there enough left of who they were to live in their new world?
1. Maggie Can't Know

The battle for Terminus didn't go according to plan. The Inhabitants weren't great fighters, but they were well armed and well rested. The group from the prison was used to working as a team and they struck fast, creating a moment of confusion, but they never could have gotten a true upper hand. It was Carl, (whom Rick had insisted stay away from the fighting and make a run for the buried weapons cache,) who found the others. He was torn between wanting to stay and help and knowing they needed the weapons, so he disobeyed his father and skirted inside the fence instead of over it. He dodged between buildings and train cars. A group of Inhabitants came jogging around a corner to join the fray and Carl dropped to the ground and rolled under a train car. As he was lying there, holding his breath, he heard a muffled sound that could only be a voice coming from directly above him. When the group had passed, he jumped out from under his post and ran to the door. The latch was rusty and it took all his strength to move it. When the door screeched open and he looked inside, it appeared to be empty. "Hello?" he whispered into the dark. "Hello?" came the soft reply. A few figures stepped, timidly from the dark.

Rick and Maggie were the first to go down. They were at the front of the line and there were five Inhabitants for each of them. Maggie knew as she lay with her face pressed against the asphalt and her arms twisted behind her that they weren't going to die. Not today. There was something maddening about it, for a woman so used to mortal threats. She watched as they wrestled Sacha to the ground, then Tara, then Glenn, then Michonne. Soon they were all in the same position she was: face down and nothing they could do about it. They waited as each member of their band was tied up, one by one, in a more secure way. The crew from the prison kept quiet, but not Sgt. Abraham. He was hollering the whole time, begging them to listen. "This man's name is Doctor Eugene Porter!" and so on. Maggie was still lying on the ground fifteen minutes later, waiting her turn when she heard a new sound, one she couldn't identify. Then there was a peal of automatic bullet fire. Then more. Then she understood the sound. It was something she hadn't heard in a long, long time. The roar of a crowd.

There were fewer than two hundred people kept for meat at Terminus, but there were only eighty Inhabitants and armed as they were, they had been so carefully trained never to kill one of their prisoners that they didn't react with deadly force until it was too late. Ten minutes after Carl rounded the corner, leading the throng, all the weapons had been collected and the Inhabitants were dead or captured, only managing to wound a dozen or so of their recent captives. Rick's buried weapons were never needed.

It was a long night as the group debated their options. Terminus was clean and spacious and the vegetable gardens were well tended but it was clear to all of them that with their numbers it wasn't quite sustainable. Some of them would have to leave and it would be impossible to determine who. The group met, town hall style, while the sun went down and came up again. By that time, only one thing was decided. Sgt. Abraham and Rosita were going to take Eugene to Washington. There was some discussion of them trying to get one of the train engines fired up, but it was agreed that the tracks would be unpredictable and no one really knew what they were doing with a damn train, anyway. They took a big, armored truck and plenty of gasoline. Seven more volunteered to join them and at dawn, they hugged Glenn and Maggie and loaded in. Tara was among the volunteers, still unable to look Maggie in the eye as she was, and she and Glenn held each other for a couple of minutes before they were able to say goodbye. After that, everyone else dispersed to find somewhere to sleep. Rick, Carl, Daryl and Michonne were left standing, huddled to talk. A woman approached them, carrying a baby.

"I just wanted to thank you," she said to Carl. "We had been in there for…a long time. They took us, you know, one by one. I just wanted to thank you."

"You had a baby in there?" Daryl asked her.

"No," she told him, "they took her from me when we got here. But they kept her safe. I missed most of the meeting looking for her and then when I found her, I wasn't really focused on what people were talking about."

"Sure." Rick told her. "Nobody decided much of anything. We're gonna take a break, get some rest and come back to the conversation tonight."

"I heard talk of the resources?"

"Yeah. Don't worry yourself about it, too much. We've got some work to do figuring out how many we've got here and taking stock of what's available. If we ration it right, we should be able to make something work. There's a lot of good, strong people here. Survivors who made their way here out on the tracks. Everyone's going to be fine. You and your baby go get some sleep."

The woman stayed where she was as the others turned away to continue their discussion. "I can help with the inventory."

"Ma'am," Rick called her, "you've been up all night and you have a baby. Why don't you let us take care of this?"

The woman didn't reply, but she hovered nearby while the conversation went on and when Rick woke up in the back seat of one of the cars that afternoon, she was hovering outside. As he sat up, (slowly from the awkward position where his back had grown stiff,) she saw her chance and opened the door. "Your first problem is beds," she told him.

"What's that?"

"We have room for ninety-two, unless anyone's willing to share a twin. There are a hundred seventy-six people here, not counting the remaining of the original Inhabitants. With them it's two hundred forty two. The most obvious solution is to have people sleep in shifts, which they'll need to do a little, anyway, so some can stand guard, but you're gonna develop serious morale problems and fast."

Rick stared at her, unsure how to respond. He opened his mouth and a little air came out, but no sound until, "what are folks doin' right now?"

"Mostly same as you. Which ain't bad, actually. There are six train cars here. I had the beds from the two sleepers in the count I gave you before, but then there're three coach cars and a diner, all of which have bench seats. There are sixty seats in a coach car, and they ain't terrible with the arm rests down. That gives you another ninety."

"You said three times sixty? Shouldn't-"

"You need two of 'em to lie down on. The diner has room for eighteen more. This is gonna come down to how well you want to treat your prisoners and no matter what you decide, it's a temporary solution."

A lot of folks had already tried to lay claim to certain patches and it was tough to tell them they'd have to vacate. Daryl tussled with one man who insisted that he'd claimed a queen bed all by himself and refused to share it. By the end of the afternoon though, the beds all belonged to couples, (many of whom did wind up sharing twins,) and the rooms in the sleeper were all assigned to families. The prisoners were locked up in two of the train cars and guarded well. There were plenty of volunteers. By the second dusk since the battle, everyone had their own little patch of Terminus.

The woman, whose name turned out to be Martha, was two steps ahead of Rick all day. She tied her baby to her back in a sling and sectioned off what part of the vegetables she was willing to spare and calculated the rough number of calories she was looking at. She got Rick to get Daryl to get a group together to hunt and, working as a team, they were able to track a deer and bring it back. Everyone in the whole camp got a quarter pound of meat, a small pile of kale and a scoop of rice from the dry storage for dinner and it was the best meal pretty much anyone had had in a year and a half. They went to bed with full bellies, feeling safe, but uncertain. Rick knew the survival of the whole camp depended on his ability to get them to trust him in these first few days and delivering everyone a meal and a bed had been a great first step.

As everyone was going to sleep, Martha appeared at his shoulder.

"Hey, you were great today," he started to tell her. There was more gratitude coming her way, but she cut him off.

"There's a big construction site less than five miles from here."

"Okay."

"These fences aren't good enough. We need wall all the way around and double fences at the gates."

Rick looked at her and then to the fences, where Maggie, Glenn and a handful of new people were pushing crowbars through to keep the walkers from building up. "You're right. If there's a surge at any point…"

"And people need something to do! Today they were glad just to be free. Tomorrow if you don't put tools in their hands…"

He looked down and kicked some dust. She was right, but it was a big leap, taking off for a construction site when he didn't know his team and didn't know the area.

"I'll go, then. I'll take people you trust, and you and Carl can stay here and look after everyone else. There's plenty to do." She produced a notebook with a few drawings of floorplans within the station. "There are books in this building and then in this building and these four rooms. There's a great room right…here…for a library. And then, look. There are these four rooms that go down this hallway. I'm thinking classrooms. If you split 'em up into kind of a nursery slash pre-school, an elementary school, middle school and high school, you get just under ten per room." Rick took the notebook from her hands and stared at it. A school? That was the kindest thought he could remember having.

"We'll pick two people for each." He told her. "Two per room. That's a few good jobs."

"And there're plenty of folks here that could give lessons to the older kids. We'll need them to learn math and science so they can apprentice under the doctors. Oh, and speaking of which!" She turned a couple of pages without taking the notebook from his hands. "Here's another project, for you. They had three doctors that they locked up separately. They weren't gonna eat someone like that. They had cells down in the basement that were pretty well stocked. I'd give them the upper floor of this building here," she gestured to it on the map, then pointed to the actual building which stood not far from them, "and turn it into the best sort of hospital we can manage. We can staff them with whoever seems capable. There was a dental hygienist in my train car with me. She's not the best conversationalist, but she can handle tools."

Rick nodded for a few seconds. It wasn't that what she'd said was so revolutionary. These were good amenities that would need to be established, but no matter how matter of fact she was being in her design or how matter of fact he was being in his tacit acceptance, they both knew what it meant. This was it. This was the life they were going to lead. He'd had this hope before, though, and he didn't let himself get too sentimental.

"Thank you, for this." He said, holding up the notebook. "Let's let folks know there's a meeting at dawn. Can we feed people?"

"Sure. Oatmeal from dry storage. We'll send a hunting party long enough before supper."

"Perfect. You seem to know your way around, but my people are very good at the kind of mission you're talking about." He beckoned Maggie and Glenn over. "You're going to have to listen to them." She nodded. He told Maggie and Glenn that they were going on a big run in the morning and that Martha would guide them. They were going to leave at dawn.

With all of that settled, everyone wandered, exhausted, back to their bunks, but Rick would have one more visitor that night.

He was standing beside the door to the little train sleeper room Rick shared with Carl and Michonne. She was with him and they were talking, low. When they saw Rick approaching, they quieted. Michonne looked tense, but Daryl didn't. He looked…sad.

"Hey, Rick."

"Hey, Daryl. What's going on?"

"There's something I gotta do. Y'all are here now, and you're safe. I couldn't have left you before, but now…"

"Beth?"

He and Michonne looked at each other and Rick knew he had guessed right.

"How you gonna find her?"

Daryl's lips twitched. "I don't know, but I've gotta try."

Rick looked at him. He remembered how he had searched for Sophia. He had never let go, never stopped. It ached to think of him going through the same thing again.

"I'm going with him." Michonne announced.

"The hell you are!" Daryl protested. "I got something I gotta do, ain't your concern."

"Of course it is!" She hissed. "Beth is a part of this group. If folks knew where you were going, you couldn't stop Maggie and Glenn from going, either."

"Maggie can't know." Daryl looked straight at Rick, intense, and he understood. Daryl had kept hope alive for Carol for months. He wasn't going to do the same to Maggie. It broke Rick's heart to know that part of Daryl had changed.

"Okay." He nodded, slowly. "Okay, you can leave tomorrow after breakfast."


	2. What About Beth?

Daryl and Michonne were gone before breakfast. Rick didn't know when they left, but he guessed it was pre-dawn, knowing them as he did. He grumbled about this to himself, a little, but he had far bigger fish to fry. Maggie, Glenn, Bob and Sacha were really all that he had left of people he trusted that could be sent along with Martha. He knew Maggie, Sacha and Glenn were capable, but part of this task was going to be moving heavy loads and he wasn't sure that group had quite the shoulders for it. They'd need at least one more and as he sat and ate his oatmeal and looked out at the groups sitting around, getting to know each other like it was the first day of college, he found that he trusted no one.

As he was thinking this, there was a little bit of a holler at one of the fences. He heard, "Don't shoot, they're human!" and sighed. Martha had warned him of this. The signs leading folks to Terminus were all along the train tracks. She had calculated for this, allowing five arrivals per day, but so far it was the only thing that seemed to worry her. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to beat down the stress of it all. "Let Martha think long term," he said out loud.

He carried his bowl up to where she stood, directing a few teenagers who were cleaning bowls as they came in and ladling them full of more oatmeal to hand out to the ever diminishing pack of unfed, still rubbing their eyes from sleep. He stayed a moment to watch her work. He couldn't quite put an age on her. She was younger than he was, for sure. A day ago, when they'd met, she'd registered around thirty to him, maybe because of the baby. She'd looked exhausted, too, and a little gaunt. Today there was color in her face and watching her move between the teenage girls, he realized she looked more like one of them than she did like him. He was impressed with the way she marshaled the other girls, keeping them in line while also making them laugh. The one boy working with them was clearly trying to impress her. As he watched, she stepped back to survey the process and seemed to find it working just fine. There were nearly enough clean bowls to feed the rest of the people in the line as it was, and the oatmeal would hold, too. She dunked her hands in the wash bucket and wiped them on her skirt as she stepped over to her baby, who was propped in a pile of blankets on a bench behind the serving table. The baby was very young, maybe just a couple of months, but delighted when its mother held it. She pressed their foreheads together and rocked back and forth for a moment, celebrating. When she turned back to the serving area, she caught Rick watching her and smiled. He smiled, too, suddenly awkward, but was saved from this moment. "Rick?"

He turned to the side. Being ushered into the line, still holding his things from the road was Tyreese. They just blinked and each other for a moment and then stumbled together into a hug. "Sacha!" Rick yelled. Tyreese snapped his head around, looking. His eyes were shiny with hope at the sound of the name. She came trotting around the corner just a few seconds later with nothing on her face but satisfaction from the night's sleep and the meal. When she saw Tyreese, she stopped and her eyes got big and shiny, too. She shook her head. Her hands flew to her face. A damn burst and she was crying in earnest, but Tyreese was already at her side. They wrapped their arms around each other and held on, tight. They fell to the ground, holding on, while everyone around them watched, silenced. Rick wiped at his own eyes and turned back to Martha, who was grinning from ear to ear. He watched as Maggie and Glenn and Bob and Carl arrived to greet Tyreese, piling on the bear hugs.

It was Carl who stopped short and stared past Rick. His jaw went slack and he took a step toward him. "Dad…" He turned. Carol was standing before him, looking beaten and wan and shabby. Her eyes were red and her face was wet, but in her arms she was holding something Rick couldn't understand. As he stared, Carl ran past him. His body intertwined with Carols in a hug that brought them to the ground, gleefully cradling the little person in her arms. Without giving himself permission to walk, Rick found himself a part of the mass of happy bodies on the ground and found that he, too, was crying.

After a moment, Carol scooted away and left the two men to sob, their heads together, holding on to the little baby, who giggled and gurgled with joy at the sight of them. On her feet, Carol wiped roughly at her face and scampered away. She paused at Maggie and Glenn to give swift hugs, but he eyes never stopped moving. She spun in tight circles, reviewing every face.

"He's okay, Carol." Maggie told her. "He's here; he and Michonne went out on a run."

"Michonne, too?" Carol's voice cracked. "What about Beth?"

Maggie shook her head and Glenn draped an arm over her shoulder. "We don't know."

"Okay. Okay." Carol's face dropped into her hands. They all lay comforting hands on her shoulders. The whole group hung onto each other, unwilling to let go for some time.

Tyreese was well enough rested to round out the run to the construction site, and Carol took charge of Martha's baby, whose name turned out to be Tulip, as well as Judith. She took charge of setting up the nursery. Rick had asked her if she'd take the elementary school and though she paused to smile at the moment of forgiveness and trust, she asked that she stay with the infants and toddlers for a time. Rick thought of Lizzy and Mika and wondered whether she had interpreted their absence to mean their death. He supposed that was what it meant. They found another handful of nurturing and educated types-some of whom had actually been teachers-and set them to work preparing their classrooms. Rick spent the whole day appointing people to various tasks. He thought often of Herschel and saw clearly how right Martha had been that nothing after water, food and rest was so essential to survival as purpose. Everyone went straight into their tasks. Of the two hundred plus people there, not one able bodied adult shied from taking something on. Not everyone was entirely competent, but they were all trying.

Mid-afternoon, the two giant trucks that had left after breakfast returned with another two behind them. They were loaded high with bricks, bags of concrete and spools of chain link. The returning group was sweaty and starving, but they all had toothy grins of satisfaction, and supper was a very cheerful affair. Everyone ate tasty stew made from the fifteen rabbits, twenty six squirrels and two raccoons the hunting team had brought back and everyone boasted about what they had done that day. The classrooms were all comfortable and safe and stocked with age appropriate books and enough paper and pens to get along with for now. The library was neatly arranged with books sorted into a few different subjects and alphabetized. There were a few couches up there, as well, to make a cozy little reading area. A nice meeting hall had been laid out in the big warehouse room and all the signmaking materials had been burned or handed over to the classrooms. The grounds had been scrubbed of bodies and blood and the hospital was now staffed with its three doctors, (and ear, nose and throat surgeon, a gynecologist and a dermatologist, but they'd have to do,) an assistant for each and an administrator. Martha pointed out between mouthfuls of stew that the next big step was to find plumbers. They were just flushing the toilets like it was nothing because there was plenty of water coming from the wells and that's what the Inhabitants had done, but no one knew whether they were on a septic system or what and if they found out the hard way, it could actually ruin the place. Rick took a mental note for the next morning.

That night, they put up their second layer of fences. The real work on the wall would start in the morning and for now, everyone was tired and happy and they should be allowed to be that. The night was warm and everyone just sat out under the stars for a long time. A group began to sing and folks joined in when they knew the words. It was funny how sweet it was to hear Journey and Beyoncé and The Four Tops again and how they had all become one kind of thing in everyone's minds. They were all dead. These are the songs we know, now, Rick thought, listening. He rocked Judith in his arms as the courtyard fell apart laughing when everyone started singing the guitar part from Bohemian Rhapsody and marveled that she would never hear the song itself, but might hear homages such as this one a thousand times. When they started singing Hey Ya next, he marveled that it would never mean anything to her that Freddie Mercury had been dead when all this started and that André Benjamin had not.

More than fifty miles away, under the same stars, Daryl and Michonne were curled up in their seats in the Honda Fit they had taken for their journey. Daryl's eyes were closed, but it was obvious to Michonne that he was not asleep.

"You have a thing about saving people, don't you?"

He didn't open his eyes. "I ain't got a thing. I just don't like people to be out by themselves is all."

"No, it's a thing with you. You never relaxed at the prison."

"Nobody relaxed at the prison. Ain't nobody gonna relax at Terminus, neither."

She sighed and rolled facing away from him. "We might. We'll have to, some day."

"I ain't saying I don't want to. I just keep starting to think we're safe someplace and we never are."

"It's not just that. You're still alive, and so are a lot of other people, because you keep your head in a crisis. Sometimes people like that, people who thrive with a threat, they just don't function the same way when things are going well. They look for new crises even when there aren't any. Sometimes they create them."

"Okay, well, I ain't like that." Daryl tried to make it sound final. He didn't like the conversation at all.

"If we don't find Beth-"

"Michonne…"

"Daryl, if we don't find her-"

"Damn it, Michonne! Why you gotta say shit like that when we ain't even hardly looked?" In the small space of the car, his yell was loud. She shushed him and he lay back down, but he was mad now, she was sure. There was no point in going any further tonight; he was closed off. She had known people before who were like that. People who lived in a heightened state. They couldn't come down from the party or they couldn't come down from the drama. It wasn't like that with Daryl. It wasn't so foolish. She had had a brother who had gone to Afganistan. It was more like that. She wasn't sure he'd be able to come down from the war.


	3. Personal Effects

The next morning everyone crowded into the now meeting hall to hear the plan for the day. Standing in front of the room, waiting for everyone to settle into their seats and quiet down was the first time Rick realized what he had done, becoming a leader again. He hadn't thought about it; it had just come naturally. Everyone's got jobs to do, he told Herschel in his mind, brushing away the thought. He ran over the crowd with his eyes. There were about two hundred people there. Some already had their purpose and been given priority in the breakfast line. The children and teachers were in the classrooms, the second shift had taken their crowbars to the fences and the hunting party was away. The kitchen staff was probably enjoying their portions of oatmeal last before cleaning up and getting things ready for supper. Martha had appointed a cute little lady who had been an organic farmer and actually gone to college for it, (which Rick hadn't realized had been an option,) to handle choosing how much and of what they would eat from the gardens each day, and no doubt she was surveying their crops and making those decisions right now. She had also appointed one of the cleverer teenagers, (though Rick suspected him to be on the spectrum, somewhat,) to take on a similar role in doling out pantry goods, which were limited. Rick was just settling on this thought as he sensed the room was ready to hear him, so he added it to the agenda in his mind and after opening up the room to address a few minor complaints, he came to it.

"We got a few things we got to take care of today. First is, I'd like to get a lay of the land when it comes to resources. Now, we got a lot of stuff in the cellar here and y'all don't need to worry about food, but I mean to stay as far ahead of that concern as possible. I want to be over prepared." He didn't know what he was going to say next, but he spoke with confidence, anyway. "Glenn, I'd like you to put together a sweep team. Take three others, take some maps and come up with areas to search each day. Everything within half a days radius, I want it searched and I want what's out there." Glenn hopped up beside Rick and a dozen hands went up. He chose a few and they went out together. Maggie sunk in her chair after not being chosen but Rick knew why and he knew she knew it, too. It was why he had given the power to Glenn and not her in the first place. He'd do better out there if he didn't wasn't constantly worrying about her. "Next thing up is plumbing and other infrastructure. Place seems to be doing fine, but I want someone to take a look and tell us what we're working with. We got any plumbers or other contractors in here?" Several hands shot up. Rick chose one at random.

"My dad was a plumber. Used to take me out with him when I was a kid. Helped him for a summer job all through high-school and college." The guy didn't look old enough to be more than a couple years out of college, so it seemed all right to Rick. He chose another.

"Inherited an apartment building. Couldn't afford a super. I learned enough, working on the place." That was good, too. Everyone was worth something, and Rick sent the little team out to start their survey. He was liking the feeling that people were getting more and more specialized jobs.

"All right. That leaves the rest of us with the hard part. Martha has figured out a plan to reinforce the walls and talked to Emmett, here, who I guess knows about these things, and they've come up with a plan. They're gonna take it from here."

Rick sat down and watched as Martha and Emmett got up to give their little presentation. Martha explained that they were going to extend the brick parts of the perimeter until there were only a couple small access points, which would be easier to choke off in the case of a swarm. Emmett explained the construction of this. Martha also explained that to the east there was a field with good soil and that everyone would be divided into groups. Some would be enclosing Terminus and the courtyard, and some would be enclosing the field, which could then be used for farmland.

"Why are we building a wall between Terminus and the farmland?" someone asked.

"Because Terminus isn't big enough for all of us to live in. We don't have enough beds, not really. I know a lot of you are uncomfortable. Even if you have something to sleep on, we don't have room for people to put their personal effects."

"We don't have any personal effects." Maggie told her.

"But you will. And if we make the field as secure as the train yard, we can add residences there, as well."

"So, why the wall?"

"In case something goes bad in one area. The more sectioned we are, the safer we are."

Everyone accepted this without fuss and the meeting continued. Martha and Emmett assigned people to tasks and work stations and the room cleared out, but Rick was still glued to his chair, staring at the place where Martha had been. He was playing over what she'd said. Picturing it. It made sense. It felt permanent. He wondered whether, if he'd thought of something like that at the prison…

They had fallen into a rhythm after only one day, and everyone returned late in the afternoon to eat wild turkey and cabbage, with a couple slices of canned peach for desert. The huge number of workers made building go quickly, even with Martha and Emmett hovering to insist that everything be done just according to specification, a trench had been dug and concrete poured, so that just inside the fence, all the way around Terminus, there was a base ready for a wall. The field had been enclosed with new fence, and that trench was half dug, as well. "I can't see the whole project taking more than three more days." Martha announced, plopping down beside Rick. "Depending on what kind of shelters we want to build, we could start moving folks into permanent homes in the field by the end of the week."

"You thinking half the people will move over there?"

"What? No. You just need enough to tend the fields and guard them. Maybe a dozen, at most. We'll have the whole crew till the soil and all that, but then we'll be ready to start on the next section of wall. We're going to need to do another materials run."

"Okay, I'll bite. What's the next section of wall for?" he asked her, and had to wait for her response while she chewed.

She swallowed as hard as she could, and spoke through the rest of the food in her mouth. "I was thinking we could build a shop. We have a lot of guys here that are real handy with cars and such. There's one guy, George, who says he can build something that turns fire smoke into gasoline and he reckons if he can pull an alternator out of something, he can build a generator that doesn't spend any of our gasoline. I figured it'd be good to let him try. Plus there's a blacksmith, can you believe that? He was talking about making stuff, if we need it. His list of supplies is real simple."

"So what's the idea, here? We keep building these little enclosed what, villages? And they each have their own purpose?"

"Sure. And most of 'em will probably farm. But, like, the hunters could have their own barracks, attached to Terminus. I'm just trying to spread folks out, a little."

Rick chewed a while. She was right. The flu never could have hurt them so badly at the prison if there'd been more separation. If the prison had been full of choke points like the passages through the wall, would the Governor's attack have been so devastating? "Each village will be responsible for posting a sentry at every entrance, so there'll be one on either side." Martha had gotten distracted playing with Tulip, but she looked up and smiled. He was getting in the spirit of her idea. "And if we make sure each village has a similar number, we can have a counsel with one from each village on it to make decisions. Terminus will be the capitol; people will just come here for meetings and send their kids to school." Her smile was even bigger. Together, they were figuring out what a society could look like without goods coming in from out of town. He stood up and pointed with his fork. "The hunter's barracks will be on that side. We'll build those next. It'll just be a small courtyard with ten or so homes and a building for fletching and butchering." Martha pulled Tulip into her arms and they walked around the perimeter, talking. By the end of the meal, they had come up with a plan to move three quarters of the population out and into their own homes by winter.

Just as they finished their circle, a clamor went up and they jogged to the gates to see the trucks returning from the day's run. Maggie sprinted forward to greet them, but it was clear that she needn't have worried. Glenn hopped out with a smile on his face. "Got everything you asked for, I think!" he announced, greeting the doctor and two assistants who also ran forward. "You were right about the clinic. The basement hadn't been touched!" The pantry manager and a couple of his folks came forward, too, and weren't disappointed. "It's a total mishmash. We found two vending machines and a pretty picked-over gas station, and other than that it was just houses. Lots of stuff, though!" From where he stood, Rick could see them unloading Pop Tarts and Spagetti-Os and boxes of sugary cereal. The truck was more or less full of the stuff.

"That's good," Martha said. "Anything to slow down the eating of the vegetables for a while. In the spring, we won't need it anymore, but for now we've got to make this stuff last." He looked at her. He wasn't sure she was talking to him. "It's good. It's good. It's working." He nodded. She was-as he was finding her often to be-right.

The sun was getting low. It wouldn't be dusk in an open space like Terminus for another hour or two, but deep in the woods the low angle meant it was getting darker.

"We should turn back." Michonne told Daryl. She was taking very deliberate steps, at this point. He was moving fast and she didn't want to encourage him. He didn't reply. "Daryl, if we don't turn back soon, we won't be able to get back to the car by nightfall and we aren't equipped for camping."

"You don't need nothing to camp."

She stopped walking. "Daryl, come on."

He turned to her. "What do you want me to do, Michonne? Why did you even come with me? You ain't looking for nothing. You ain't finding shit! Seems like you're just here to make sure I don't get my damn hopes up. Well I ain't giving up 'til I've fucking LOOKED." He turned back and kept moving forward, quickly. She sighed and followed.

"You said these people had a car."

"You can't track a car."

"So what are you trying to track?"

He didn't answer.

"Daryl…"

"Based on the direction they took off, they had to come down that road. It only leads to that town back there, where we both know they ain't, and the highway."

"And if it's the highway, then you don't know where they went."

He scowled. "Why would they come that far from where they were just to snatch little girls?" At first, she thought the question was intended to shoot her down, but then she looked up. He had stopped walking and he was looking at the ground. His shoulders were hung. Michonne blinked. She had never seen Daryl emotional but as she looked at him, it occurred to her that he might cry. She blinked again. She wasn't the coddling type.

Just as she was formulating a sentence, (something along the lines of, "plenty of reasons, maybe they were just taking her because they saw that you guys were surrounded,") when a twig snapped behind them. In the time it took them to spin around, Daryl had notched an arrow and Michonne had drawn her sword. They glanced at each other, squinting into the dim spaces between the trees. Daryl jerked his head to indicate stepping apart to circle around the source of the sound, and Michonne followed the tacit instruction. They both stepped gingerly; they had the softest footfalls in their group. As they rounded, they kept themselves tense for a possible fight. They moved several paces until they felt they should be level with the sound, but saw nothing. It was unnerving. Then they both jumped out of their skin.

"Hey, down there!" They looked up. In the tree between them, just a couple branches up, was a teenage girl with a very big gun, pointed right at Daryl. "Why don't you go on ahead and set that bow down by your feet?"

Daryl lowered the point, but he didn't set it down. "What're you doing up there?"

"Well, I was trying to avoid you completely, but it kinda seemed like you were gonna find me, so I thought we might as well have this conversation on my terms."

Daryl smiled. Michonne didn't understand. She wasn't feeling too calm, yet. "We ain't gonna hurt you," he said, "so why don't you come down and we'll have the conversation on equal terms, instead."

"I don't think so, buddy. You're outgunned!"

"It's a plenty big gun, but it ain't worth nothing if you don't know how to use it. I'd be happy to show you."

The girl was mad. She tried to maintain her attitude. "Go on and push me, boy, and you'll see how well I know!"

Daryl laughed. His crossbow arm was now completely relaxed. "Girl, you're not fooling anyone and you're not in danger, neither, so come on down and let's talk this out. The girl was hating this, but she slung the gun over her shoulder and hopped down, absorbing the ground not quite as gracefully as she had obviously hoped. He slung his crossbow over his shoulder and plucked the gun from hers. He pointed it off to the side and told her, "First of all, this is how you hold it. You hold it like you were doing and the damn thing's gonna fly out of your hands as soon as you fire. Second, this right here is the safety, which you'd like to be off." He clicked it into the next position and handed it back to her. "There's only a couple more rounds in there, so be careful."

She studied the side of the weapon and then clicked the safety back on. "Thanks."

"You traveling alone?" Michonne asked her.

"Yeah. A couple days now. I'd sure appreciate if I could tag along with you."

Michonne and Daryl made eye contact.

"How many walkers have you killed?" Daryl asked her.

"What?"

"Dead people. How many you put down?"

"I don't know. I lost count. Lots."

"How many people you killed?"

She chewed her lip for a second. "Seven."

"Why?"


	4. Taking Care of Her

Night was falling in Terminus and the chatting was dying down. People were headed to bed with the satisfaction of exhaustion. Rick hadn't felt this warm, this satisfied since the night he'd first found Lori and Carl. He found he couldn't stop smiling. Carl was sitting with Judith on his lap next to Martha. Judith was inspecting the little Tulip with fascination, much to the amusement of those around them. "How old is she?" Carl asked.

"Almost two months, I guess." Martha told him.

"She'll be trouble, like this one, before you know it!" Carl held Judith up and she grabbed at the brim of his hat.

"Judith looks about ready to start standing up!"

Carl's eyes widened at this idea, but he tried to play it off like he was an expert. "Oh, yeah. Once she starts walking we'll have to keep a real eye on her!"

"Carl, it's time for Judith to go to sleep. C'mon." Rick waved him away. Carl stood and said goodnight to Martha before making for the train. Rick sat down in his place by the fire, close to Martha. "I think he likes you."

"Oh, yeah?" She grinned. "I like him, too."

"I can't imagine going through puberty with the world like this."

"He's doing just fine. You're setting him a good example for how to be a man."

Rick watched her face in the firelight as she turned back to Tulip. The baby reached out a tiny arm and she bent down to offer her nose to be grasped. "You have her in here?"

Martha paused. It wasn't a happy memory, he could tell, and regretted asking. "Yeah. They were sweet to me when I arrived. I'd been alone out there for a while and the size of a house. I was in bad shape. They were really, really sweet to me for a while."

He couldn't help himself. "So, what happened?"

"When I went into labor, they took me down to one of the doctor's cells. I could tell right away something was wrong. Why were there people locked up? Nothing I could do about it then, though. I was screaming all sorts of questions at them and they tied me down. As soon as she was born, I calmed down. I realized, of course, that they had all the power. All I really cared about was her, so I tried to go back and play along and pretend I didn't care but they knew. I got to nurse her once and then they took her away." She looked lost for a moment, but she pulled herself back together. "When I found her she was in a crib in once of the nice bedrooms, upstairs. They made her a mobile. They were taking care of her."

"Martha, at some point we're going to have to talk about what we're going to do with them."

"Yeah. I've been feeding them our leftovers and the same powdered milk shit they were giving us. They're an albatross, though."

"We can't just let them go. They'd come back and we can't risk them coordinating an attack."

"I know. But, Rick…they were taking care of her."

"They were also luring people into Terminus for their meat, Martha. If nothing had changed, they would have eaten you." He felt a great surge of protectiveness and was suddenly extremely grateful that his group had wound up in the containers. "We can't integrate them. They can't be part of this." He looked at her and found that she had tears on her cheeks. "Hey, hey…" He turned her toward him and wiped them away with his thumb. "This ain't on you. I don't know why I-I shouldn't have started down this path with you. There are other people who can decide this."

"Sorry, Rick. I don't know why that hit me like that." She forced a laugh and wiped the tears herself. "Something about nursing, maybe. I'm all hormonal and weird."

Rick tried to grab on to the change of subject. "Where's her father?"

"Dead, I hope." The clearness with which she said this shocked him. The woman still drying her eyes from the thought of harm coming to her cannibal captors didn't waver when it came to this man. His shock must have registered on his face. "Don't look at me like that. You don't know what it was like to be a woman out there alone. I thought men were bad when there were laws." She laughed at his expression. "What, is this the first you're hearing of this?! I'll bet you every woman here has a story. I guess the ones that were with you were pretty lucky." The conversation had died and she looked tired. "I'm gonna take her to bed. G'night, Rick."

She gave him a pat on the knee as she stood up and walked away. "G'night." He watched her go. He knew people had gotten ruthless. He had met some real sickos, too, the night they found Daryl. The idea, though, that the world had become a place where such behavior was mundane had not occurred to him. He remembered a conversation with Lori, when they'd been in Atlanta on a date night and a man had yelled something lewd at her. He'd wanted to go back and kill the guy and couldn't understand why she wasn't more upset. She seemed to think the whole thing was funny.

"Rick, if a woman walks alone in the city, the odds that she's gonna hear something like that are better than half. The only reason you don't know that is because they aren't usually brave enough to do it with other men around."

He'd grumbled and told her he was glad they didn't have a daughter and the next day he'd called his sister in Dallas and she'd confirmed what Lori had said. All those guys he'd so resented that night were still out there, but all the consequences of their actions had been taken away.

Fifty miles away, Daryl was confronting the same type of anger. He strode through the woods back toward the car with Alexis, their new companion behind him and Michonne bringing up the rear. What she had told them made him angrier than he had ever been in his life, but it also gave him somewhere to look next. With all the adrenaline in his veins, he felt manic. He thought about those mothers that rip the roof off their car when their child is inside. He felt like he could tear a car in half.

"She was only twelve," Alexis had told them. "She'd had an infection in her eyes and she was blind. She'd tried to run away once and they'd broken her ankles so she couldn't walk. I couldn't leave her like that. Just waiting all day, every day for them to come back, over and over again. She didn't even understand what it meant. I thought about it a lot, but I didn't do anything about it until she got pregnant."

"What did you do?" Michonne had asked.

"I broke a piece off my bedframe. When she was asleep, I… I did it in a way so she wouldn't come back."

"How'd you get out?"

"The next time one came down, he saw what I'd done and he hollered for the others. They were gonna kill me, I think, or just cut on me. I don't know. But I got strong. I was starving and I was weak but I got strong and I got fast and I got one of 'em with my stake right in the throat and he fell back on the others and I got out of the room. I just latched the door behind me and, y'know. I waited till I could hear the one had taken care of the rest and then I grabbed this stupid gun and I ran."

Daryl hadn't been able to listen to the whole thing. He'd gone off into the woods a few paces. Michonne had hung her head and Alexis had asked, "What's his deal?"

"A friend of ours got taken. She's probably in a similar situation."

"Wait, taken? Taken by whom?"

"I don't know. Pulled into a car."

"A car?"

"Yeah." Michonne turned away and took a few steps before realizing Alexis wasn't following her. She hadn't moved.

"Was it...was it an ugly, old, blue Cadillac?"


	5. Not Just Beth

Rick was trying to fall asleep, but the distant thump and squish of the sentries' crowbars braining walkers through the fence was distracting. The next day would be the big push to build the wall on top of the foundation they had laid that day. He couldn't help but game out each of the thousands of options lying before them and all the possible pitfalls. The plan was to leave three archways in the main circle with a bell in the top of each arch and big, metal gates. That's what they were picturing, anyway, but Glenn and his crew would have to go out and find those things and it meant they'd need to move the vehicles outside the main camp, which meant moving the fences as soon as they were out of play. There were a thousand little things to manage and plan for, and nothing felt guaranteed. As much as there was to cause stress, though, it wasn't a truly negative feeling. No, what he had felt more like first day of school jitters or stage fright. Martha's vision of a new society was so exciting and felt so possible that he was anxious to make it happen. Martha. He closed his eyes. Thud. Thud. Thud. Three fewer walkers. He tried to focus on the sound. He counted his breath and tried to clear his head of all things Martha and Terminus.

In, out. One. In, out. Two. In…

The sound of the walkers had stopped. There were voices, now, and the chains rattling. Rick sat up to listen, but didn't hear anything more. He moved swiftly and quietly to his feet, glancing at the top bunk to check that Carl was still asleep. He picked up his gun from the tiny nightstand and stepped, softly into the hall. The row of windows faced away from the center of camp-where the fire still burned-and he had to run his hand along the wall to orient himself in the dark. He felt the cold metal of the train door and turned the latch, as slowly as he could. He slid back the door and hopped, lightly, to the ground. He crouched and listened. Still no sound of sentries. He took a couple steps forward and went to lean around the corner of the car, and was knocked backwards onto the ground.

"Jesus, Rick!" Daryl reached down and grabbed him by the elbow to help him to his feet. Rick was panting.

"Fuck, Daryl, you scared the shit out of me."

Daryl didn't bother asking whether Rick was all right or why he was so tense. In the almost two hours it had taken them to get back to the car and then fly, at full speed, back to Terminus, the adrenaline had subsided, but his determination and urgency had not. "Listen, I think we found Beth."

Rick, dusting himself off and trying to settle his thumping heart, looked at Michonne. She nodded. Behind her was a girl, maybe two or three years younger than Beth, who was valiantly but ineffectively trying to appear unfazed by the sight of the camp.

"This is Alexis. She was held at the same place. She can show us where it is. We gotta get a group together and armed, though, she said it's well protected. I was thinking me, you, Tyreese, Michonne-"

Rick shook his head. "Wait a minute, wait a minute. Go back. Alexis? I'm Rick. Where is this place where you were being held? What were you being held for?"

She stepped forward and shook his offered hand. "These guys, they go around grabbing girls. I was traveling with two others, my brother and another guy we met. We ran into them on the road and they were real sweet for a minute until they got their shot and then they forced me into their car and just left Jared and Nick behind."

"That ain't what's important now!" Daryl cut her off. "What's important is it's the same guys that got Beth! Rick, these guys, they sell the girls, Rick. They hand 'em off for food and guns and gasoline. We got to go get her and we got to go do it now."

"They sell 'em?" Rick processed this. "How do we know she's there, then, and not sold?"

Daryl was going to speak but Alexis cut him off. "They held me for a couple weeks before they found someone who could pay for me. Most of what they find is just people. Just regular women. And they let them go for a couple weeks food or half a tank. For a teenager, though, and if she's pretty and…" she glanced at Daryl, looking nervous, "and a virgin, they'll hold onto you for a while."

"I don't get it. What are we talking about here? Who are these people that can afford to buy women?"

"There's a whole economy out there. Enough camps of enough size to barter between. There's a serious gender discrepancy, though."

Rick stared at her for a while, thinking. It was true there, too. He thought about who had come out of the other train cars to fight the inhabitants with them. The group was more than 80% male. He could feel Daryl growing impatient.

"All right. All right. So, what is this place? Is it a house? How many of them are there?"

"It's a house. The girls are upstairs. I don't know how many there are of the guys. Maybe five?"

Rick paced. Daryl was still breathing heavily, tensing and relaxing his hands around his bow. "Rick. Let's go."

"Are these guys armed?"

Alexis nodded.

"We'll go in the morning as potential buyers and scope the place out. Once we've seen inside-"

"NO." Daryl was shaking. "Damn it, Rick! No! It's been a week since I seen her; I don't know if she's even still there and if she is, I don't know how long she'll be there. I can't leave her in there with those guys." He had tears on his face. He turned away.

Michonne stepped forward and hissed at Rick, "It's not just Beth. Rick, these guys are _selling_ women. We can't leave any of them. We can't let these guys keep on with this shit."

"We also can't go out and stir up shit and piss off every other camp in the state, especially if they're all nasty enough to be buying and selling people and well stocked enough to afford it!" Rick tried not to raise his voice, but Daryl heard and he came storming back. Rick put up his hands and didn't resist as Daryl threw him against the train car. He was ready to start yelling, but Rick beat him to it. "I can't keep Beth safe or you or Michonne or Alexis or Carl if we have another attack like the Governor's! This place is strong and good and we can defend ourselves against walkers, but we can't afford to make enemies in this world. Not anymore."

Daryl relaxed his grip, but his face was still inches from Rick's when he said, "Fine. Then we won't leave any fucking witnesses."


	6. This Is Temporary

A small crowd gathered that night, around Daryl and Rick. Mostly it was people from the train cars, who heard the commotion. They stood around and stared as the plan was worked out. It took a couple hours of planning, but it was agreed that Rick, Daryl, Tyreese and two more of the bigger, meaner-looking guys would head out after breakfast and pose as potential buyers. Another dozen guns would surround the place at a short distance and be ready to move in if they heard any kind of ruckus. One of the more mechanical-minded guys offered to slim down one of the two baby monitors they had on hand so Rick could wear it in his pocket and give the second wave a better idea of what was going on inside. Ideally, all they'd do would be to scope the place out, make sure Beth was inside and figure out where the other innocents were and then they'd broker their deal and leave. Once they'd regrouped with the others, they'd come back in, guns blazing. After that, they'd scoot out as fast as possible and split up, each vehicle taking a different, wide path back to Terminus. It was a good plan, but it still felt wrong to Rick to go out looking for trouble when they'd finally just found a place with so much promise. As folks started to wander away, he looked down at the cracked pavement around the fire pit, dark with ash. He ran his fingers across it. He couldn't have explained why he loved it so much, but he felt such a longing to put guns aside and build, and this felt like the old, bad days, threatening to drag him back out into the violence and the pain he so badly wanted to leave behind. From where he was sitting, he could see Martha's window. It was dark and he pictured her sleeping. Her and Tulip. He smiled at the idea that Tulip and Judith would surely grow up as close as sisters. He pictured them crossing through one of the sentry gates he and Martha had designed with the builders, a couple of ten year olds, lost in their day of play. He imagined the sentry-maybe it was Bob-greeting them as they passed. So familiar. So safe.

Daryl plopped down beside him, breaking the trance. They just sat in silence for a few moments, most of what was passing between them not needing to be said.

"I'm sorry I shoved you around." Daryl said. "I've been kind of a mess since she got took."

"I can tell." Rick nodded, and they went back to staring in the fire in silence. "Hey," he remembered, "I have some good news. I can't believe I didn't think of it, sooner." He hopped to his feet and offered a hand to Daryl, who took it.

They crossed the yard to a far train car and slid the door softly open. They kept their steps light as they moved down the aisle. There was someone asleep on almost every seat, curled up in the fetal position to fit their bodies across the two seats. "This is temporary." Rick whispered. They kept moving, with Daryl's eyes darting back and forth, totally baffled as to what he was going to see, until Rick found what he was looking for and stopped. Curled up tight, with her feet propped up on the window sill and a big jacket pulled over her, was Carol.

Daryl's breath caught and he dropped to his knees. He rolled to a sit and scooted himself back into the little space between the rows of seats, the top of his body leaned over hers. She started and opened her eyes, sitting up a little. When she saw him, tears filling his already red and puffy eyes, mouth open and head tilted in disbelief, she didn't hesitate. She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him to her chest. He wrapped his hands under her arms and up her back and sobbed, in spite of himself. She rocked him back and forth and Rick could feel a couple people in the car stirring, even though they were being as quiet as they could and hadn't said a word. He watched them there, rocking for a moment more, and then turned to go back to bed.

The next morning when the train compartment roused for breakfast, Daryl woke up with his back screaming. He was lying with his feet in the aisle and his head on Carol's belly, with her face twisted around right in front of his and her arm still around his shoulder. Despite the agony of having slept in this position, he stayed another minute, watching her sleep with a smile on her face. He resisted the urge to stroke her hair, knowing it would wake her. When she did wake, half an hour later, he was gone.

Tyreese and the other two volunteers, Jackson and Dennis were loading up their vehicle while Daryl and Rick talked through the plan again, working over every contingency, when Martha marched up to them, Tulip on her chest. "What the hell, Rick?!" The others all stopped what they were doing to watch. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Listen, Martha, we have to." He took her by the wrist and turned her away, lowering his voice. "This girl is one of our own and she's with dangerous people. There are other girls in these guy's custody and we can't leave them, either."

She wrenched her arm away. "I don't give a shit, Rick. You talk to me about this kind of thing, you hear? Before you go running off with half our best men, you tell me. Before you go walking into a house full of lunatics with guns, unarmed, Rick, you tell me." Her voice had gotten soft, too, and her hands were on either side of his head, her fingers wrapped around the back of his neck and her thumbs on his cheeks. She rubbed his cheekbone with her right thumb. "You can't always be the guy in the front line, Rick. You aren't disposable, okay? I need you." Rick was aware that they were being watched by many eyes. He saw her realize it, too. She dropped her hands. "You do what you have to do, Rick, but we're making good progress, here, and you're integral to that. This community needs you more than that girl does." And with that, she was gone.

Word of their expedition spread fast after that, and within ten minutes, just as they were closing the doors on the vehicles and hopping in, themselves, Maggie came running around the corner, with Glenn close behind her. "Rick! Daryl!" She ran right up to them, slamming into them when she got there. "Where are you going? I heard a rumor, Rick, I heard this rumor you were going to get a girl you knew from your old camp. Who is it, Rick? Where are you going?"

Rick and Daryl exchanged looks and Daryl hopped into the truck, eyes front. Rick turned back to Maggie and took a breath. "We don't know if she's there, Maggie, but we're gonna try."

That was all her body had been waiting to hear. The dam burst and tears flowed down her face. She fell against Glenn, whose arms flew around her. "You knew she was out there? Did you know she was out there this whole time?"

"Maggie, Daryl was looking for her. We weren't ever gonna-"

She leapt forward and pounded on his chest. "You shoulda told me! I coulda gone with him!" Her eyes focused and she wiped the tears from her cheeks, full of determination. "Well, I'm going with you, now."

"No, Maggie! Damn it." Rick followed her as she marched over to a van loaded with the perimeter folks and jumped in front of a big guy on his way in. She sat in his seat, buckled herself and then held out her hand. The big guy looked from her to Rick, who sighed and nodded. He turned his body so she could reach the rifle he had been issued and she snatched it from him and then slammed the door. "Let's move out!" Rick yelled, and hopped into the driver seat of the truck, next to Daryl.

A crowd gathered with crow bars to stop any walkers getting in when they opened the gates, but there were only a few left on the fences and a few seconds later the rescue party was gone and the gates had closed behind them.


	7. Might Be Time

Martha stood still long after the sound of the caravan had faded. The merry sound of breakfasting rose up around them and she rocked Tulip and tried to think of anything she had to do. Nothing came to mind. The bricks and cement were just waiting to be uncovered and the day's building could begin. It would be slower without all the people that had just left, but even without the strongest backs, they had many hands. Her most valuable players were the architect and the two contractors, none of whom was agile or strong enough to have been taken on the rescue mission. Or rather, she thought, perhaps all of whom Rick had spared from the rescue mission. Rick. She wished he could prioritize the good of the group over this one girl, but even after the little time she'd had to get to know him, she knew he couldn't have left someone behind and she wouldn't have changed that about him. She glanced to the side, suddenly aware that another person was also still standing, looking out after the vanished rescue party. It was Glenn, the guy who led the provision runs. He looked miserable. She wondered whether he was in love with this girl they were going after or if maybe he was insulted not to have been asked to go looking for her. "Hey," she called over to him, "whatcha thinking?"

He kicked the dust and called over his shoulder as he walked back toward the breakfast area. "I'm wishing I had a picture of my wife."

Alexis was sitting in the middle of the bench seat of the truck with Rick and Daryl on either side of her. She'd only spent one night in the giant camp and she was already back on the road, leading them back to the origin of the hell she'd only just escaped. She knew that and she kept trying to feel sorry for herself, but she couldn't. In spite of everything, she felt safe. Rick Grimes, the apparent leader of the camp, Terminus, seemed fair and strong, and he smelled like masculinity without smelling bad. He smelled like work. Daryl, on the other side of her, was her savior. It had been him and Michonne together, truly, but to her in that moment when she hopped down out of her tree, she desperately needed to trust a man and be rewarded for it and he was more than she could have hoped for. Even in the berserker state he'd gone into when she said she knew where the blue cadillac took the girls they picked up in it, he had been gentle with her. He didn't smell as good as Grimes, not nearly, but she felt a thrill as the bumpy road jostled them and their arms touched. She found herself watching Daryl's hand and compelled to touch it. She wondered what he'd do. Her heart started beating faster and she shifted her weight slightly. Her fingers extended a few inches and she twisted her wrist forward so she was just a couple of inches from where his rough, strong looking hand lay, open on his lap.

"What do we do, here?" Rick's voice made her jump. She pulled her hand back and looked around. They were coming up on a junction.

"You have to get on the highway." Rick and Daryl looked concerned, a moment. She knew what they were thinking. "It's off at the next exit, but it's a left turn. It isn't even a mile further. Once we get off, it'll turn into gravel pretty quick and we'll be there right after that."

"If there ain't much more down that road, they might have someone watching it," Daryl offered. "Might be time."

Rick slowed the truck and stopped. The other vehicles followed suit. It was happening, Alexis knew. This was when they'd leave her behind. She felt her heart race, again. There was nothing pleasant about it, this time. Nothing exciting. She put her hand on Daryl's wrist. "I don't want to stay behind."

"You gotta." Rick told her, though Daryl was the one with whom she had eye contact. "Alexis, even if we could keep you safe, there ain't a bigger tip off we could give them than bringing one of their old hostages. You'll be safe with Michonne's team."

She knew this was true, but she couldn't break eye contact with Daryl. She was trying to communicate to him how important it was that they not be parted and she wondered whether he understood, because when his hand covered hers, it wasn't just to push it away. He squeezed it, tenderly. "Alexis, I'll be right back and then the guys that did this to you will be out of the picture, all right? We're getting rid of them for you." As he stepped out of the truck, he kept the look between them and used their joined hands to guide her down. "You're gonna be all right, you hear me?" She couldn't help herself. She barely came up to his collarbone, so she hugged his midsection. He laughed. "C'mon, now. Michonne will look after you." And she was there, taking Alexis by the hand and leading her toward the group that was stretching after the rare car ride and donning their gear in a more serious way. Alexis looked over her shoulder at him, but Daryl had already become engrossed in conversation with Rick, and the two of them got back in the truck before she ever even saw his face again.

The Michonne-led backup group spread quickly through the forest. It had been agreed that Rick and Daryl's team would give them half an hour before taking off for the house. They moved quickly and quietly through the trees with Alexis leading the way and Michonne directing everyone else with hand signals. Without the comforting presence Daryl mysteriously provided, Alexis found every step toward the house excruciating. She was sweating, though she wasn't over exerted and the day was not too hot. She kept clenching and unclenching her hands. The only thought that kept her going was the idea that Rick and Daryl were headed into that place and they might need help. She tried to care about the girls they were going to free and found that she couldn't. She had freed herself and it felt like enough. As she was staring at the ground, forcing herself to put one foot in front of the other, she was startled by the appearance of Michonne's hand on her shoulder, tighter than a vice. She couldn't help herself; she squealed, a little. Michonne glared at her then turned her face back in the direction they were headed. Alexis looked around to find that everyone else had stopped, still. There must have been some visual signal she missed. As she watched, Michonne gestured for everyone else to move out to the sides, and they did.

Now that it was silent and she was focused, Alexis could hear it, too. Somewhere ahead of them through the trees, they could hear the voices of men.

* * *

**Thank you guys so much for your support. Sorry to cut in, but I'm curious. I have my own ideas, but how do ****_you_**** picture Martha and Alexis?**


	8. Where Is She Now?

Rick lead. Daryl hung back, as Rick had made him promise to do, over and over again on the car ride in. He mostly looked at the floor. He was a hot head and he didn't normally like to be told that, but today he knew he could himself, Rick, Beth and probably all the folks out in the trees waiting for them killed if he didn't hold it together, so he was determined not to go off. As soon as they had rounded the corner, seven or eight guys had appeared, well armed. When Rick stepped out of the truck, they all raised their weapons, but he held his hands up and slowly, carefully lowered them to his gun belt, removed it, and tossed it in the dirt at their feet. One of them kicked it aside. He had the air of a leader about him. He jerked his head, and a couple of guys stepped forward and frisked Rick. They nodded to the man in charge and he stepped forward. "Welcome to Fairyland. Why don't you tell us a little bit about yourselves?"

"Name's Rick Grimes." Daryl's head snapped up for half a second, but he realized immediately that in their new world, names were about as useful in tracking someone down as social security numbers. Who the hell was Rick Grimes? "These guys, myself and three others got a camp about ten miles from here. We recently started trading with some guys on the other side of the river, there. They have a couple of young ladies in their company and us being just men alone, we asked them where they thought we could get ourselves a similar situation and they sent us to talk to you."

"These guys have names?"

This was where it got a little dangerous. What if these guys knew Alexis had killed off her captors? Or what if they simply asked questions Rick hadn't thought to ask Alexis? "Jerry, Mark, Lorenzo, and that big guy, what's his name?"

"Steve."

"Yeah, him. They've got other guys with them, I think, but those are the ones I know."

"Yeah." The leader spit in the dirt. "That was a real nice one they took from us a couple months back." Daryl shifted his feet in the dirt. He didn't like the idea of Alexis being with those guys for a period measured in months. He had never asked her how long, but for some reason he hadn't imagined it being months. "We've got one of that nature with us at the moment. Let's talk about what you've got."

Rick jerked his head, now, and Tyreese brought around a gas can and set it down. One of the guys that had frisked Rick carried it over to his boss, who smelled it. "There's more where that came from," Rick told him.

"There'd have to be." The man replied. "Depending on the girl, we'd be talking about quite a bit of this.

"We've also got good hunters. We've been curing meat and we've got some to spare."

The man nodded, slowly.

"The last thing I'll put on the table," Rick said, "is one of the guys back at our camp was a plumber. He's well able to come do a full service on whatever you've got here. He could dig a well, build a good outhouse, just fix the toilets, whatever it is you need."

The men glanced at each other and Daryl could tell this had been clever on Rick's part. "All right. Why don't we have a couple of you come take a look at what we've got on offer."

They were each patted down as they went, single file into the building. They had brought a couple guns, for show, but nothing they weren't prepared to lose. They didn't want to draw suspicion, but they didn't want to seem like a threat, either. Their meager weapons were gathered in a sack on the porch as they went down the stairs into the basement of the massive house.

"Where'd you find this place?" Rick asked.

"Actually, it was my parent's." The leader told him. "My dad and I raised pitbulls for fights. Sure has come in handy!" When he said this, they hit the bottom of the stairs and his flashlight beam touched chain link. He switched on a row of lanterns daisy-chained to a battery and the whole basement was illuminated. On either side, stretching out in front of them were rows of small, chain link cages. More than half of them were occupied by people. Mostly, they were women, though not all the women were young or pretty. Some of them had boys, though none older than fourteen or so. They didn't seem to have been abused, per se, but they looked defeated. They were hungry and they didn't have space to lie down. At least one of them had died and was now gnawing on the side of her cage. The girl next to her was pressed against the opposite wall, staring at her but not screaming. She seemed to have adjusted to this as a part of her reality. "You boys take a look around," the leader told them. "With what you've offered so far, we'll certainly be able to discuss terms for almost everything in here."

This was a particular moment on which Rick had coached Daryl, closely. "Keep your eyes on the ground," Rick had told him. "Don't get too eager. We can't let on we're looking for anyone in particular, so don't you go running toward anything, you hear?" Daryl had agreed and agreed at the time, but now he found the only way to keep his feet from betraying him was to walk behind Rick and insist on replicating his steps. For each of Ricks, he too took one. He pretended he was tracking him, watching the empty footfalls in the mud, rather than the actual ones on concrete. "That one's nice," he heard Rick say. Rick wasn't great at this, either. He wasn't a natural liar. With a stab, he wished they had Merle with them. Merle would have been a master of this. He watched Rick's feet come level as they reached the opposite end of the corridor and froze as Rick turned and started, still slowly, back. "This one, here, she's the age we were thinking, about. You ain't got any white chicks, though? We talked about this last night and we were fixing to find ourselves a blonde." Daryl felt the cold sweat on his forehead form a bead. He watched it fall to the ground. No. No, it couldn't be.

"Nah, not at the moment. Ain't too many of those left around. Happened on one not a week ago, now you mention it, but we had a buyer waiting for such a piece and we were able to unload her day before yesterday. First one we'd had in a while, too, so I'd start thinking real hard about how picky you're prepared to be."

Daryl couldn't help it. He looked up. He scanned the right-hand side of the room. Seven occupied cages. He scanned the left. Four occupied. No Beth.

Rick rolled his head to his chest and spoke directly to the cigarette pack in his breast pocket. "That's a damn shame." He said. "The seven guys you got outside, four upstairs and three down here in the basement, and you can't keep the blondes in stock?"

A hundred feet to his right and above ground, Michonne couldn't help a small snort. Deception was not Rick's strong suit. Holding the baby monitor up to her ear, she conveyed the information he had given them through hand signals and they all spread out. The idea was to reconvene and head back if they heard the vehicles leave and to go in if they heard shots fired. Alexis stayed close to her.

"So," the leader was saying. "What do you think of what we got?"

"See, problem is we really had our hearts set on that blonde." Daryl stepped forward, past Rick. Rick laid a hand on his chest as he passed, trying to restrain him without revealing the tension of the moment, but Daryl was determined. "This girl you just let go, where is she now?"

"We can't tell you that. Ain't no good for business. We got a real pretty little asian girl just behind your friend, there. Why don't you take a look and-"

"Listen, I don't give a rats ass about your damn business. I want something and I aim to get at it."

The leader cracked his knuckles. "Fine. You can put in an order and let us know where you're at and we'll let you know if we pick anything up, but I can't make any promises."

Daryl turned away and looked into one of the cages. Behind him, Rick was negotiating with the leader, trying to maintain his position as a casual buyer and learn more about where Beth was. In front of him was a woman in her forties. She was pretty in a soft kind of way. Matronly. She couldn't meet his eye. In front of her were two plates, each with about a thousand calories on them in candy and cheetos. She hadn't touched them. Her sweater looked hand-knit. He wondered whether she had made it herself. The conversation behind him had become friendly again, and Daryl turned back to hear Rick and the leader striking a bargain. They'd wait two weeks to see if any blondes turned up and if not, they'd buy a little older woman, a redhead, for less. The asian, it was decided, would be worth more to another party than they were wiling to pay for her. The whole posse began trudging up the stairs and Daryl, bringing up the rear, cast one last glance at the woman in the handmade sweater. She was looking back at him and the kind of defiance he saw in her face was like a punch in his gut. She no longer appeared matronly to him. She looked fierce. In that moment, all he could see was Carol, down in one of those cages. His breath caught a moment. He looked at the asian girl and saw Beth, scared and small and trying to be brave. He looked at the redhead and saw Andrea. He looked down the row of cages and saw Maggie, Lizzy, Michonne, his mother, the woman Judith might grow into, maybe a daughter of his own and then he just saw red. When he reached the top of the stairs, one guy remained on the top step to close the door behind them. As he passed him, Daryl laid a hand on his gun. As he crossed the threshold, he turned, raised a foot, placed it in the middle of the man's chest and pushed him back down the stairs.

A second later, Michonne and her crew heard the signal they had been hoping would not come.


End file.
